


D as in Double

by Pokeydotes



Series: It's the Little Things, Dude [14]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Irondad, peter parker is clueless but he tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21842371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokeydotes/pseuds/Pokeydotes
Summary: Peter just wanted a simple, romantic-ish date with MJ. The universe had other plans.Or the one where nothing goes as planned, a disaster in the making turns into a double date, and MJ gets super competitive.Peter just thinks it's cute.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Series: It's the Little Things, Dude [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565779
Comments: 20
Kudos: 307





	D as in Double

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by CMW2 who wanted to see Peter and MJ on a double date with Tony and Pepper. She had a few specific requests but I got bonus points if Flash can get shown up...

There was a running joke that May Parker was a terrible cook. Turned out, so was Peter. Only he didn’t know it, not at first.

Oh, he definitely knew it now, but he didn’t forty minutes ago or else he and MJ wouldn’t be trying to silence alarms and waving throw pillows through the air in an effort to clear out the smoke currently wafting through the Parker kitchen.

MJ left the open window, placed May’s pillow over her nose, and peered into the still slightly smoking pot that was now sitting in the sink.

“I think you didn’t add enough water,” she observed unhelpfully.

Peter frowned and poked at the mass of solidified noodles with a partially melted spatula. “It said to boil a quart of water, then add noodles. I did that.”

“And then you left it boiling,” she pointed out. “It’s physics, Peter. I know you know the laws of thermodynamics.”

Peter just wrinkled his nose and dropped the ruined spatula into the pot of ruined noodles and proceeded to sulk about his ruined night.

He turned to the other pot still on the stove and frowned. The night started to go downhill when he realized that he had forgotten to buy onions. It just sort of steamrolled from there, because the evening had barely even started and already the apartment smelled like burned butt, his nicest shirt was stained, the sauce was too thin, the noodles were inedible, and MJ was making a face like she was trying really hard not to laugh.

She must have noticed his sense of despair, because she tossed the pillow onto the kitchen table and gave him what was probably supposed to be a supportive punch to the arm. “Smile, dork. It’s the thought that counts.”

“That’s not the point,” he told her, plopping down into the closest chair and promptly slumping forward until his head thudded against the table. He turned so that his cheek was smooshed against the tabletop as he looked up at her judgmental frown. “This was supposed to be nice.”

She shrugged and then took a small step forward, her fingers playing with a loose thread on the edge of the throw pillow. “So we don’t get a nice home cooked dinner,” she said, her lips pursed to the side in thought. She arched an eyebrow and tilted her head. “But the night’s not over yet. We can still salvage date night.”

“I have sixteen dollars in my pocket,” he said glumly. “Unless you want a box of frozen pizza pockets from the gas station on the corner—“

“I’ve got a twenty,” MJ informed him. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded and crumpled bill.

Peter set up and continued to frown. “I’m supposed to be treating you.”

MJ narrowed her eyes. “Don’t make me smack you with May’s nice pillow.”

Peter rolled his eyes but felt the corner of his mouth tug into a small smile. “Okay, so we’ve got, what, thirty-six bucks? Any ideas?”

MJ grinned. “I say we raid the food trucks then come back here and hit up Netflix.”

So they had a plan.

The food trucks weren’t exactly right around the corner, at least the good ones weren’t. They grabbed their jackets, made sure they had their money and a key, and started walking. It wasn’t quite dark out. The sky was doing that thing where it smeared streaks of purple and pink in with the blue and honestly, it was kind of nice.

Peter brushed his fingers against the back of MJ’s knuckles and grinned when she simply grabbed his hand, tangling their fingers together as she continued talking about the fully loaded cheese fries she was about to demolish.

So yeah, maybe the whole romantic night in wasn’t exactly going as planned, and yes, that would definitely be the last time Peter got a date night idea from one of May’s Hallmark movies, but maybe MJ was right. They could totally salvage it.

They were still about three blocks away when something cold landed on the back of Peter’s neck. It wouldn’t have been a problem, except another something landed on his ear then his cheek, then—

Peter looked up just as a soft rumble began to echo across the steadily darkening sky and those little isolated raindrops found some friends. In a matter of seconds, the rain began to pour down, plastering Peter’s hair to his forehead and soaking through his hoodie.

MJ squeezed his hand and pulled, tugging him along behind her as she ducked her head and steered them towards a small awning outside an old bodega that had outdated posters in the windows offering discount tobacco and handmade tamales.

Peter wiped the rain from his eyes, pushed his soaked hair back, and resumed his sulking. He looked at MJ, his face thoroughly disappointed. Or he hoped that was what it looked like. It was what he was aiming for.

MJ didn’t seem to care. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket and tossed her wet hair over her shoulder before meeting Peter’s frown with one of her own. Only hers wasn’t disappointed. Hers seemed more laidback, like she didn’t care so much about Mother Nature fucking them over but more about the fact that Peter wasn’t playing along with her plan to have fun.

“Stop pouting,” she ordered. “The night is not ruined.”

“You okay with eating soggy cheese fries?” he asked. He tilted his head back and leaned against the wall of the bodega. “Because unless you’ve got some miraculous plan, there’s no way we’re making it to the trucks and back without getting completed soaked.”

MJ folded her arms and moved so she was standing right next to Peter, their arms touching as she leaned against the wall and mirrored his pose, mostly. She didn’t look as mopey. “We can always do frozen pizza pockets.”

Peter snorted. He lifted his head and looked at her. The rain had somehow made her hair curlier, it was frizzed and sort of doing its own thing, but she didn’t seem to care. She just seemed relaxed, almost content. Maybe she really didn’t care that their plans for a romantic date, or what passed as a romantic date for two broke high school students, were ruined.

“We can probably swing a bag of Cheetos and gummy worms,” he said. He felt his mouth starting to move into an unwilling smile. “Maybe even some Gatorade.”

MJ reached around and grabbed the hood of her jacket, pulling it over her head. She wrinkled her nose and said, “Gummy worms are gross. They feel—“

“Yeah, I get it,” Peter said cutting her off. “It’s a texture thing with you. Don’t gross me out. But the gummies are for me. Cheetos are for you.”

“Sounds great,” she muttered, somehow sounding bland and sincere at the same time. She adjusted her hood and grinned. “Race you?”

Peter pushed himself off the wall with a grin and was just getting ready to run out into the rain when she grabbed his arm, another frown on her face.

“Wait. You don’t have, like, super speed or anything, right?”

“No.”

“Good,” she said and then took off like the cheater she was.

They made it two blocks before MJ darted beneath another awning. They were completely drenched. Peter’s hoodie was absolutely clinging to him and his shoes were full of water. He shifted his feet and felt it squelch in between his toes.

MJ was breathing hard. Some of her hair was stuck to her cheek, but she was smiling. She leaned down, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

“You’re out of shape, Jones,” Peter chided, actually smiling for the first time since the noodle incident.

“Some of us don’t run around the city like an idiot,” she pointed out. She stood up right and placed a hand on her side, one eye squinting as she massaged the stitch just below her ribs.

Peter turned and looked down the street. The store was in view, just a quick hop across the street and then another long stretch of sidewalk. “This mean you giving up on the race? Conceding defeat?”

Peter expected to receive another glare. What he got was confirmation that MJ was stupid competitive. She took off before he even finished the question, feet splashing in puddles as she darted across the street.

Peter followed her, ignoring the car that laid on its horn as he chased after her. She beat him, barely. Yeah, he was faster and used to running more than she was, but she was determined.

And her legs were a little longer than his.

The cashier gave them a silent but judging glare as they darted inside. It might have been because they were out of breath and laughing like idiots, but Peter was willing to bet it was probably due to the little puddles he and MJ left behind with each step they took.

Peter made his way to the back corner where the store kept a small selection of frozen foods that ranged from ice cream to microwavable hamburgers. Peter grabbed the pizza pockets and went to find MJ loading her arms full of peanut M&Ms, crunchy Cheetos, and sour gummy worms. “You get the Gatorade?” she asked, grabbing a bag of beef jerky and tucking it between her elbow and a king size pack of Reese’s peanut butter cups.

“What color do you want?” Peter asked, turning to go back to the coolers. He stopped when he saw who was standing in the doorway, watching him with a quirked and amused expression.

Tony stepped forward, ignoring the way the cashier’s none-too-subtle “holy shit”, grabbed the box of pizza pockets from Peter’s hands and flipped it over. Whether he was reading the list of ingredients or the number of calories, Peter didn’t know, but whatever it was made Tony’s nose wrinkle in distaste. When MJ wandered up, arms laden with candy, Tony smirked. “Someone’s got the munchies.”

“What are you doing here?” Peter blurted out. It was a little rude, but he was a lot surprised.

Tony didn’t seem to care. He shrugged and squinted up at the fluorescent lights, frowning at the way they flickered. “Trying to figure out why my favorite intern is playing in the rain,” he said, looking back at Peter, “and almost getting hit by cars.”

“I didn’t—“

“I’m assuming you have a good reason for looking like a drowned orphan?” Tony asked. He reached forward and flicked the soaked hood of Peter’s jacket.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure you’re not supposed to make orphan jokes since I’m an actual orphan.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got May, so we’re good,” Tony said, waving his hand dismissively. He gestured between Peter and MJ. “What’s happening here?”

“Just getting dinner,” Peter shrugged. He turned and walked to the register and the still staring cashier.

“Seriously?” Tony tossed the box of pizza pockets onto the counter. “Are those even edible?”

“More edible than what we’d originally planned,” Peter admitted.

“So this is plan B?”

“More like Plan C,” Peter said, thinking of the forgotten food trucks. “But seriously, why are you here?”

“Business,” Tony said, grabbing a pack of gum and tossing it onto the pile of candy MJ had dropped onto the counter. “Pep and I were looking at a potential property here in Queens, trying to see if it’s worth buying. We were on our way home when we saw you dart across the street. Figured I’d come in, see what you were up to.”

“Still nosey then?” MJ asked.

Tony smiled then dipped his head in greeting. “Nice to see you again, Michelle.”

MJ returned his nod. “Stark.”

“Get up to anything fun lately?”

“Crazy drunken orgies,” she said with an impressively straight face. “Is that what you want to hear?”

The cashier seemed to have frozen halfway through bagging their loot. Tony made a small, polite gesture to get him moving again and nodded his head in Peter’s direction. “If you were with anyone other than this one, I might believe you,” he said, grabbing his wallet and dropping a fifty on the counter. "But I have it on good authority that Peter Parker’s idea of a wild night usually involves Star Wars, LARPing, and copious amounts of sugar.”

Oh yeah, Peter forgot he needed to kill Ned for sharing that little tidbit. But that would have to wait, because Tony had grabbed their bag of food and was in the process of telling the cashier to keep the change.

“We were gonna pay for that,” Peter said pointing at the bag in Tony’s hand.

Tony just bounced his eyebrows and started walking out the door. “Save your money, kiddo. Let the billionaire buy your candy.”

Peter turned to MJ expecting to see her frowning. She was, but she was also putting her money back in her pocket.

They followed Tony outside to find a sleek and shiny and way too fancy metallic grey car parked right outside. Pepper was standing beneath the awning. She was dressed in a nice black dress, looking way more professional than Tony in his sport coat and faded shirt with a headphone wearing kitten on the front.

Peter felt his toes squish in water again and figured they were both doing better than him.

Pepper looked up from her phone, saw the bag in Tony’s hand, and frowned. “Is that candy? I thought we were going for dinner?”

“Relax,” Tony said, digging in the bag. “Candy’s for the kiddies.”

Peter gave an awkward wave as Pepper turned her frown towards them. She smiled in greeting, but before she could say anything, Tony asked, “How upset would you be if they tagged along?”

Pepper frowned again. So did Peter and MJ. “What?”

Tony shrugged and held up the bag of M&Ms. “We sharing these?” he asked, looking between Peter and MJ.

“You paid for them,” MJ pointed out. “But can we go back to the tag along thing? What did you mean by that?”

Tony handed Peter the shopping bag, and tore into the M&Ms. “I meant you guys crashing our date, or us crashing yours. That is what this is right? A date? That I’m guessing isn’t going so well?”

Pepper slapped the back of her hand against Tony’s arm and MJ frowned.

“It’s going fine,” Peter said, hoping his clothes didn’t smell like burned noodles.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “You’re on Plan C, right? Let’s try Plan D for dinner. Or double. Either way, it works.”

“You want us to go on a double date?” Peter tried to keep his face from doing something stupid, like revealing just how excited that idea sounded.

“Unless you want to walk home in the rain and pig out on microwaved meat and gummy bears?” Tony gestured to the shopping bag in Peter’s hand.

“I’m fine with it,” Pepper said, doing that soft smile while Tony popped an M&M in his mouth and looked to Peter and MJ expectantly.

Peter remembered he wasn’t the only person on this date and turned to MJ. “It’s up to you.”

MJ reached forward and grabbed the opened M&M bag from Tony’s hand. “You really want the two of us crashing your date?”

“It wasn’t a date,” Pepper informed them. “We were just going to grab something on the way home, but if this is going to turn into a date…” she glanced at Tony suspiciously, “I figure a double might be fun.”

MJ ran her fingers along the torn edge of the candy bag and narrowed her eyes in Tony’s direction. “You’re not worried about us cramping your style?” she asked. “We’re not exactly dressed for anything Stark worthy.”

Tony narrowed his eyes in return and said, “I’ll tell you what, if we can go the whole night without a lecture on the imperialistic doom and gloom that is modern capitalism and how I’m single handedly contributing to the destruction of modern America, I’ll even pay for dinner.”

Peter cringed and gave a cautious look to MJ. She was still frowning, but it wasn’t her typical pissed off frown, or even the one she made when she was full on judging you. This one was more…scheming. And honestly, that was a little more terrifying.

But she crossed her arms, lifted her chin, and asked, “Appetizers and desserts?”

And what the fuck?

Tony didn’t seem as surprised as Peter though. He just put his hands in his pockets and rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

MJ’s gaze narrowed, her expression still scheming, still considering. She then looked to Peter and her face softened before she turned back to Tony. “And no making fun of us.”

Now Tony did look surprised. “Excuse me?”

“If I can’t comment on Stark Industries, then you can’t comment on us dating,” MJ clarified. “No quips about our age, or bed times. No calling us rugrats or kiddies. No mention of the birds and the bees.”

Tony’s eyes seemed to get wider as MJ continued to list things that were off limits. Peter’s did too, but while Peter’s ears began to turn red and his jaw began to hurt as he clenched his teeth in something akin to mortification and fear, Tony began to smile.

Not a big smile, just a cocky little smirk, but it was still there because Peter could see it.

So could MJ.

She smirked back.

There were only a few people that could probably get away with telling Tony Stark what he could and could not do, and Peter somehow seemed to know all of them.

May was near the top of the list, right beneath Pepper. Apparently MJ wasn’t far behind because Tony simply smiled, took a step back and gestured towards the waiting car.

MJ gave Tony an approving nod and then stepped out into the rain and hurried into the back seat, face once again passive and almost bored, like she hadn’t just told an Avenger what’s what.

But then again, MJ had once called Tony a nosey pervert so it would probably be a while before she topped that.

The ride to Manhattan was mostly quiet, at least on MJ and Peter’s side. They sat in the backseat of the ridiculously nice car and listened as Tony and Pepper quipped back and forth about where to eat and whether or not the seller back in Queens would accept a lower offer or if he would try to rack up the price because it was Tony Stark.

“He’ll rack it up,” MJ said, breaking the backseat silence. “He knows you can afford it.”

Tony tossed her a glance in the rearview mirror. “Is this you breaking our bargain, Princess?”

“Nope,” she said with a slow roll of her head side to side against the seat, “Just an observation. It’s what any businessman with an ounce of commonsense would do.”

Tony didn’t say anything, but he did turn to give Peter a weird look that Peter couldn’t really translate. It didn’t look like a bad look, but it did make Peter regret getting in the car. Maybe they should have just gone back to the apartment and binged on junk food and Netflix. Maybe he didn’t want to spend one of the few moments he had alone with MJ, free from May and Ned and the rest of the nosey decathlon team, with a judging and even nosier Tony Stark.

Peter gave MJ another appraising look, trying to find any sign that she was unhappy with their current predicament.

But she looked passive, eyes peering through the heavily tinted window as they drove through the city. She didn’t look angry…she just looked bored, but that was just MJ.

Peter forced himself to take a deep, calming breath and reminded himself that MJ wasn’t the type to be coerced into something she didn’t want to do. If she was here, it was because she wanted to be.

Besides, they’d already crossed the bridge and were heading into Manhattan. Too late to turn back now.

It was still raining hard by the time Tony turned the car onto a side street that was way too crowded considering the weather. Peter stopped looking at the line of cars in front of them and turned to look at the people running from cover to cover to escape the rain.

They were all young, youngish anyway. All of them in varying stages of dress, some wrapped up in enough rain gear that they could probably take on Niagara Falls and others looking like they’d been caught off guard by the rain, their sequined miniskirts and high heels drenched.

That’s when Peter looked up at the buildings lining the street. He’d never actually been inside a night club before, but he knew what they looked like. Spider-Man had stopped enough muggings outside of the ones back in Queens for Peter to know one when he saw one.

Peter thought they would just be passing through, but then Tony leaned forward and squinted out the window, trying to see through the heavy rain, and said, “Alright, here’s the plan. Since I’m a gentleman, I’m going to drop you all off at the front then I’ll go find somewhere to park.”

Peter had sort of expected Tony to take them somewhere with valet parking, but considering he and MJ were still soaking wet and wearing sneakers and ripped jeans, maybe it was best that he hadn’t.

It took a few minutes for traffic to cooperate enough for Tony to get them close enough to where they were going that they hopefully wouldn’t get completely drenched.

Peter heard Pepper sigh as the car slowed in front of an old store front with neon signs illuminated in the shape of Chinese characters all along the front. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in grabbing an umbrella is there?”

The corners of Tony’s mouth turned down in an amused imitation of consideration. “You could try. But you’d probably be soaked before you managed to get it open.”

Pepper sighed again and undid her seatbelt. “Alright then, follow me I guess.”

And then she opened the door and climbed outside.

Peter and MJ followed.

The wind wasn’t bad, but the rain was heavy. And cold. So cold.

By the time he made it to the sidewalk, Peter felt his entire body begin to shiver. He had to clench his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering. Pepper made it to the door first and she held it open while Peter and MJ slipped into the nice and oh _holy fuck it was warm_ and dry inside.

Peter tilted his head forward and ran his hands through his hair, trying his best to get the worst of the water gone. He looked up to see MJ pulling her hair into a loose knot atop her head while Pepper ran her hands along her scalp, smoothing the sides down and looking way more dignified than Peter felt.

The restaurant was small but crowded, and didn’t look like anything that should be sandwiched between two nightclubs.

The floor was covered in a thin threadbare carpet that looked like it might have been red at one point but had been trodden on so much that it had taken on a weird grey color.

The vinyl in the booths along the wall were all cracked with age, the cushions indented from decades of New Yorker butts pressing them down. The lights were dimmed and the air smelled of soy sauce and something deep fried.

Peter looked around and frowned. There wasn’t really anywhere left to sit, at least not for four people. He turned to point this out to Pepper but she was busy talking to an older woman who was grinning at them and offering them small towels.

Peter took his gratefully. It was stiff, smelled of bleach, and was obviously one of towels they used to clean the tables, but it was clean and warm and he was ready to declare his love to the short Asian woman. MJ looked like she was too.

Peter shared a grin with her and then buried his face in the towel, savoring the way it warmed the tip of his nose. He had just ran it over the top of his hair when the little bell above the door chimed. Peter opened his eyes, expecting to see Tony.

What he found was Flash.

He wasn’t exactly ready for Niagara Falls, but clearly Flash had taken the time to watch the weather before heading out. He was wearing a matte black rain coat that went to his ankles and looked like it cost more money than it was worth. Peter could just make out a thick silver necklace peeking out from beneath the collar of his black button up that had one too many buttons undone.

Based on the way he was standing, Flash probably thought he looked good.

Peter just thought he looked ridiculous. So did MJ. She told him so.

“You look like a lame _Matrix_ reject.”

Flash adjusted his coat but ignored her. “What are you losers doing here?”

“It’s a restaurant,” Peter said. “What do you think we’re doing here?”

Flash narrowed his eyes and looked between Peter and MJ before he slowly started to grin. “You two are on a date.” He made a simpering face and placed his hand over his heart. “That’s adorable.”

Flash either hadn’t noticed Pepper or didn’t think she was part of the group. Either way, it worked out in Peter’s favor because as soon as Flash reached for his phone, Pepper covertly gestured to Peter’s hair.

He quickly ran a hand through it, trying to make it look like he hadn’t just ruffled it with a towel just before Flash snapped a picture of a sopping wet Peter and MJ.

Peter rolled his eyes and groaned, “Why are you here, Flash?”

“It’s Saturday night and this is where the parties are,” Flash grinned, “Where else would I be?”

MJ draped her towel over the back of her neck and glared at him. “That fake ID actually works?”

“You want one?” Flash asked. “I could hook you up. Then you wouldn’t have to waste your weekends going on dates with this loser.” He gestured to Peter with his thumb.

“Double date,” MJ corrected.

“What?”

“We’re on a double date.”

Flash frowned. “Leeds is here?”

“Nope,” MJ said, saying the word so that she popped the P just as the bell over the door chimed.

Flash ignored it at first, up until he saw MJ’s smug smile begin to grow. He slowly turned, and holy shit Peter wished he had grabbed his phone, because it was a beautiful moment.

Tony was standing in the doorway, frowning as he dripped rainwater into a puddle on the worn, greyish carpet.

Flash stood before him, his lower jaw slowly falling open as he registered just who he was standing in front of.

Peter grinned and tossed Tony his towel.

Tony wiped his face and arched a brow as he took in Flash gaping before him. Tony was clearly used to people losing their shit in front of him, because he just sighed and looked to MJ and Peter.

“Friend of yours?”

“No,” they said together.

Tony hummed.

Flash blinked and whispered an unnecessary, “You’re Tony Stark.”

Tony hummed again, though this time it sounded more like a grunt. “And you’re in my way.”

Flash took a step back, eyes still wide as he continued to openly stare at Tony. Then he blinked again and looked to Peter.

Then back to Tony.

Then back to Peter.

“You’re on a double date with Tony Stark.” It wasn’t a question. Just a statement of fact he seemed to be having a hard time believing.

Pepper covered her mouth as she tried to hide her smile. Flash finally noticed her.

“You’re on a double date with Tony Stark _and_ Pepper Potts.”

Peter couldn’t help it. He grinned. Like for real, full on teeth shining, cheeks hurting grin. MJ smirked a little. She tried to hide it, but Peter saw it.

Tony draped the towel over his shoulder, placed his hand on Peter’s arm and started to herd the small group to the back.

“Sorry kid, private party,” he said, turning to look at Flash. He turned back to Peter and gestured to a doorway in the back corner near the bathrooms. “Our table’s in the back.”

The ‘back’ turned out to be a storage room with a small folding table and foldable chairs placed in the corner. The walls were lined with wire shelves laden down with a wide assortment of food, the majority of the labels written out in Chinese or Mandarin or some language Peter wasn’t equipped to understand.

There were also buckets, actual buckets of soy sauce stacked along the back wall next to a pile of large bags of rice. The noise from the kitchen was a lot louder here, thanks to the absence of the music from the main dining area and the fact that Peter could actually _see_ into the kitchen if he stood right next to the soy sauce buckets.

“This isn’t what I was expecting…” Peter said aloud.

“Don’t touch the goods,” Tony said, pulling Peter away from the makeshift pantry and pushing him towards the small table and chairs. “Also, you were literally about to pig out on microwavable pizza pockets and gummy bears—“

“Gummy worms.”

“--So you do not get to be snooty and pass judgment on what restaurant I choose.”

MJ looked like she was sharing Peter’s skepticism, but when Pepper sat down without an issue, they did the same, frowning.

“So…,” Peter began, “Were we supposed to grab menus or—”

“No menus,” said a sharp, crisp voice. Peter looked up to see a middle-aged Asian woman emerging from the kitchen carrying a tray laden down with four, large mugs, each of them steaming. “You want a menu, you eat in the front.” She had an obvious Brooklyn accent and was staring at them with judging, narrowed eyes.

“Go easy on ‘em, Maggie,” Tony said, reaching forward and grabbing one of the steaming mugs off the tray. “It’s their first time.”

Maggie just frowned at Tony then smiled reassuringly as she sat the tray on the table and gestured for them to take a cup. They did and as Peter brought his towards his face, he realized it was full of some type of greenish tea.

It smelled weird, tasted weirder, but it was warm and eased the shivering he’d been trying and failing to control.

Tony sat his mug back on the table and leaned back in his chair. He made a grand waving motion, gesturing between Peter, MJ, and the woman. “Everyone, meet Maggie. I promise her cooking is better than her attitude. Maggie, meet my intern, Peter and his girlfriend Michelle or MJ or whatever she wants to be called today.”

“Your intern?” Maggie asked, looking at Peter with more interest. “This the one who’s been turning your hair grey?”

“The one and only,” Pepper said. She shared a grin with Maggie as she took a sip of her tea, purposefully ignoring both Tony and Peter’s glares.

Smile still on her face, Maggie turned back to look at MJ and Peter. She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes in consideration. She then turned to Tony and jerked her head in Peter and MJ’s direction, asking, “Are they old enough to be dating? They look twelve.”

Tony just smiled politely, somewhat sarcastically. “I’m not allowed to comment on the subject.”

Maggie just hummed then turned back to Peter and MJ. “You allergic to anything?”

“No…,” they said together.

Maggie gave an approving nod and disappeared into the kitchen, but not before turning back to Tony and glaring threateningly. “Stay out of the fortune cookies, Stark.”

Tony rolled his eyes, gave a mock solute, and then they were alone again.

“So…” MJ began, “Are we going to get food, or not?”

Tony grabbed his mug and smirked knowingly. “Oh yeah.”

“You’re going to have to trust him on this,” Pepper said. “I had my doubts the first time he brought me here, but it’s worth it.”

“So we get food…but we don’t get to order?” Peter asked. He was still holding onto his cup of tea, using it as a small, personal heater for his freezing fingers. He was also trying to figure out who it was Maggie reminded him of.

“Pretty much,” Tony shrugged. He stood up, and with a cautious look towards the kitchen, began digging through one of the boxes on the shelf nearest the table. When he turned back around, his hands were clenched around a small hoard of fortune cookies. Tony dropped them in the center of the table, and tore his open with his teeth. “It goes like this, you tell Maggie you’re hungry, and she feeds you. End of story.”

“But what if I don’t want what she gives me?” MJ asked, grabbing one of the fortune cookies.

“You’ll eat it,” Tony said confidently. He popped half the cookie into his mouth and narrowed his eyes as he tried to read the little strip of paper the fortune was written on. “And don’t worry, it’s not like you won’t have options.”

“It’ll be like a small buffet,” Pepper explained. “Maggie tends to overdo it, and cooks a little of everything.”

“And they just do this for anybody?” MJ asked.

Tony shrugged. “If they pay. Maggie isn’t picky.”

Peter didn’t want to guess what a private buffet from Maggie would cost. He figured it was more than the cash in his wallet, so he kept quiet and stuffed a fortune cookie in his mouth.

With the exception of a boy about Peter’s age coming to get their drink order, they were left alone, completely in private with nothing but the sounds of the kitchen and the occasional clap of thunder to break up the silence. That was until Tony and MJ decided to fill the silence.

Tony went first. “So, how’s school?”

“Unchanging and seemingly never ending,” MJ answered.

Tony snorted and said, “Wait till you enter the work force.”

MJ leaned forward, propped her elbow on the table, and lifted her chin challengingly. “You’re a literal superhero with a billion dollar bank account and the ability to delegate any and all responsibility to someone else. You even put your girlfriend in charge of your company so you wouldn’t have to play CEO anymore. Pretty sure I can’t take your word on what a normal adult work day is like.”

Peter looked back and forth between the two. Waiting.

Tony wrinkled his nose, the second half of his cookie half-way to his mouth. “I want to argue with you, but you’re not really wrong.”

MJ just snorted, leaned back, and grinned.

It took longer than Peter would have liked, but eventually Maggie and another woman emerged from the kitchen, huge trays of food balanced on their shoulders.

“If you don’t like it, you can starve,” Maggie announced in friendly tone, setting the tray on a stand and pushing it next to the table. “But you’re still paying for it.”

It was May. Maggie reminded Peter of Aunt May, no-nonsense sass and all.

Except Maggie was a much better cook.

“Oh my god,” MJ half-whispered, half-moaned as she bit into something covered in a sticky, orange sauce. She turned to Peter, eyes wide, and pushed the bowl towards him. “Taste this.”

And Peter did. And then he kept tasting it, and would have kept going if MJ hadn’t grabbed the bowl back and hunched over it, hissing at him when he tried to sneak his fork past her arm.

Tony tossed a fortune cookie at her and gestured to her hoard. “Trade you some of that for this,” he said, waving his chopsticks at the plate before him. MJ relinquished her bowl in exchange for Tony’s plate.

Then she took a bite, did that half-whisper, half-moan thing again, and looked at Peter with wide eyes. And so began a pattern that continued until they had tried everything on the table.

Peter had never eaten so much in his life. He groaned and leaned back, arms falling to the side as he stared up at the ceiling. He was miserable. Absolutely miserable.

“I’m going to die in this room,” he groaned. “I can’t move. It ends here.”

MJ just moaned in agreement. This was definitely better than food truck cheese fries or microwaved pizza pockets.

Tony and Pepper seemed to be in similar states of distress. Or Tony did at least. Pepper looked like she had a little more self-control.

Good for her.

Maggie seemed pleased in a sadistic kind of way. She smiled triumphantly as she took in their varying displays of misery and threw a stack of take-out containers at Tony. “Worth it?” she asked.

Tony reached for his wallet. “Every penny,” he groaned, and then handed her several bills that looked suspiciously like hundreds.

They slowly piled the remaining bits of food into the containers and trudged out of the back room.

Then it was another race through the rain into the car and a short ride to the tower, which was a bit of a surprise seeing how Peter thought they’d be going home.

But no.

“Are the parental authorities expecting you back?” Tony asked.

“No,” they answered.

“Then what’s the problem?”

There wasn’t one. Unless you counted the fact that they were wet and cold and so full of food they wanted to throw up.

But Tony had a plan for that too, it seemed.

“You can shower and change here,” he explained as they filed into the elevator. “Hang out a while, then Happy can take you home.”

“I’m sure Happy’ll love that,” Peter mumbled.

Tony just smirked and held up the bag of leftovers. “That’s why you bribe him, kid.”

And sure enough…

“Is that from Maggie?” Happy asked, practically drooling when Tony held up the bag.

“Yep. But there’s a catch.”

Happy frowned but still reached for the bag. “How big of a catch?”

“Take the squirts home.”

Happy’s frown moved to MJ and Peter and then back to Tony. “Can I eat first?”

He could, mostly because Pepper had returned with a stack of neatly folded clothes and instructions on who could shower where.

The clothes weren’t too impressive, but they were dry and soft. Peter was pretty sure the sweat pants belonged to Tony because they had old oil stains spattered down the legs. The shirts were baggy and had Stark Industries’ logo stretched across the front.

Peter was keeping both.

The shower was heaven, all hot water and soaps that smelled expensive. Peter stayed until his fingers started to prune and his frozen joints had stopped hurting.

When he eventually emerged, his hair rumpled in a towel-dried mess of curls, it was to find MJ sitting at the counter, eyes a little wide as Pepper asked her how many marshmallows she wanted in her hot chocolate and Happy pouted because Steve and Thor were arguing over the last of Maggie’s pork skewers.

Peter ran his hand through his hair, hoped it behaved, and hopped on the vacant stool next to MJ.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Yep,” she whispered back.

Pepper caught Peter’s eye and held up the bag of marshmallows. He made a gesture that probably translated to “I want ‘em all” and then turned back to MJ. She was sitting perfectly still, her eyes focused on the countertop and her fingers absently twirling the hem of her borrowed shirt.

“Is it...is this all too much?” he asked.

“Nope.” She shook her head and pressed her lips into a tight line as her eyes flicked up to watch Thor lick sauce off his thumb. If she was lying, Peter couldn’t tell. He bumped his shoulder against hers, waited until she looked up, and offered her a small smile.

She smiled back, and Peter once again reminded himself that if she didn’t want to be there, she was the type of person to tell him so.

Pepper stepped forward and placed two steaming cups of hot chocolate in front of them, each with a wobbly mess of melted marshmallows on top.

It was around that time that Thor leaned forward with a challenging smile and politely asked MJ, “Do you like games?”

Seemed like an innocent enough question, right?

Wrong.

See here’s the thing: MJ was good at a lot of things. Amazing, really. She was one of the smartest girls in the school, she had a memory like an iron trap and possessed an endless vault of random and obscure (and somewhat morbid) trivia. She was a straight up walking encyclopedia of weirdness.

She was strong-willed, stubborn, and determined. She held fast to her beliefs and fuck anyone who tried to get her to change her mind. She acted like she didn’t care what people thought. And yeah, it might be all an act, but it was a damn good one.

She was also competitive as fuck.

Which wouldn’t be a problem if they were about to play Scrabble or chess or kahoot or even watch reruns of Jeopardy.

But no. Thor wasn’t the kind to kahoot.

So instead, they played some Norse game where Thor set up a piece of wood at one end of the room and they all had to throw smaller pieces of wood at it to try and knock it over. It was kind of boring, had a name that was probably spelled with too many consonants, sounded like something you’d find at Ikea, and made Peter think of a lamer version of horse shoes.

Didn’t mean MJ wasn’t going to try to win. She stared down the little wooden post like it was the enemy and gave it all she got. And she might have won too, if it weren’t for the small fact that she had exactly zero depth-perception and terrible aim.

But Thor liked her determination and when Steve emerged from one of the lower floors carrying a handful of ping pong paddles and slightly dented ping pong balls, Thor declared that MJ was to be on his team.

Peter turned to Tony, who was busy lazily tossing marshmallows into the air and catching them in his mouth. Mostly. “You play ping pong?”

Tony frowned. “No.”

“Then why do you have those?” Peter pointed to Steve and the dented ping pong balls.

“Science,” Tony answered. He stood up from the counter and grabbed one of the balls from Steve. “And beer pong.”

“We gonna play beer pong?” MJ said with a grin, giving Peter a wink as Tony and Steve both frowned.

“Nope.” Tony tossed the ball onto the counter, watched as it bounced, bounced, bouncebounce bounced, and frowned some more. “And you’re not playing ping pong either. Don’t have a table.”

“Seriously?”

“There used to be a table,” Pepper informed them. She looked up as she was wiping off the counter, her expression unimpressed, “but it…died.”

MJ narrowed her eyes and asked, “What’s that mean?”

“Not important,” Tony said with a wave of his hand. But the way Pepper was looking at him hinted that Tony was the reason the ping pong table had ‘died’. “What is important,” Tony continued, conveniently not meeting Pepper’s eye, “is that you’ll have to pick another game.”

But Peter was amongst gods and legends. They weren’t about to let a little thing like a missing ping pong table stop them.

So one thing led to another and they were all gathered around Tony’s elegant, extra-long dining table. MJ and Peter had raided the pantry and there was currently a makeshift net in the center, complete with a bottle of ketchup, some instant-mix pancake batter, two different bottles of salad dressing, a jar of outdated pickles, two cans of cream of mushroom soup stacked on top of one another, and a box of cereal that had been turned on its side.

Tony grabbed a cup of coffee and hopped up on the counter, feet dangling towards the floor as he watched the show. Pepper rolled her eyes and chose to sit on the stool. Happy grabbed the remaining Chinese food and left.

“Alright, here are the rules,” Tony declared, taking on the role of referee. “Ball touches the perishables, that’s a point for the other team. Ball touches the floor, you fail. And gentleman, try to keep this tame and let’s go easy on the new comer.”

MJ raised her chin. “Because I’m a girl?” she challenged.

“Because you’re a muggle,” Tony countered. “Pretty sure the three of them combined could bench press the Chrysler building. You, not so much.”

MJ gave Thor’s bicep a side-eyed look and quirked an eyebrow. “That’s fair.”

Tony smirked, raised his coffee cup into the air, and waved a dismissive hand, “Alright, do your thing. Release the balls or whatever.”

MJ served first. She looked to Peter, her eyes shining with unusual excitement, and then the game began.

If asked, Peter wouldn’t have been able to answer whether or not MJ was having fun. That glimmer of excitement disappeared the moment Steve returned her serve.

MJ had a rather small range of facial expressions, most of them somewhat related to boredom or disinterest with the occasional appearance of judgement.

But slowly, Peter was getting to see more of MJ’s expressions. He might not be able to label them, but he was still paying attention.

Like now, her eyes were narrowed and her jaw was clenched, and just as she got ready to swing, the bridge of her nose crinkled. And when she managed to actually hit the ball, her eyes would widened, her lips pressing together in a tight line like she was trying to prevent a smile and hide her excitement.

And then it was right back to the way it was before. All determination and anticipation.

It was cute.

Not that he was gonna tell her that, but still. Cute.

And as much as MJ kinda sorta sucked at ping pong, she wasn’t doing too badly. But that probably had more to do with the fact that Thor kept overestimating his strength and hitting the balls with the same amount of strength he would have used to swing Mjolnir. Peter and Steve had to duck out of the way multiple times.

Mostly because of Thor.

But once because of MJ.

It cost a point, but she still smirked like it was a win.

Cute.

The game ended when Steve went to serve, the paddle slipping from his fingers to fly forward and embed itself in the plaster high on the wall. There was complete silence except for the noise of the plastic ping pong ball rolling onto the floor and bouncing away, and then everyone slowly turned to look at Tony.

Tony, who just stared at the paddle and the tiny cloud of plaster dust that was slowly wafting towards the floor before turning a stony face towards Steve and saying, “You did that on purpose.”

“I really didn’t,” Steve said. He seemed to be holding back a smile, but when he looked back to the buried paddle, he genuinely seemed apologetic. “But I can, uh, I can fix that.”

Tony didn’t get a chance to respond, but that was only because MJ made a small noise like a snort, followed by another, before she was full on laughing.

She caught herself, her hand quickly rising to cover her mouth, but the damage was done. Everyone was staring at her and her wide eyes as she just stared at Peter.

But then Peter started to laugh, and then Thor and then Steve.

Even Pepper joined in and Tony dipped his head and rubbed his eyes, but his shoulders were shaking.

Peter wiped the tears from his eyes and turned to look at MJ, who had stopped laughing. She was still smiling though. Grinning really, in a smirkish kind of way. The kind that boasted of confidence and easily translated to “I was right.”

“Told you the night wasn’t ruined,” she whispered, counting on Peter’s hearing to pick it up.

Peter rolled his eyes but kept on smiling. So maybe she was right. Date night hadn’t been ruined after all.

And it still wasn’t over.

After they eventually stopped laughing and the makeshift net was put back in the pantry, Steve bid them all a goodnight and left to recharge, or hibernate, or whatever it was super soldiers did when the sun went down.

Thor made his way to the couch and plopped down before propping his booted feet on the coffee table. Pepper made a face and Thor quickly put his feet down.

Tony clapped his hands and reached for the remote. “Alright, who’s up for a movie?”

Peter shared a frown with MJ and then looked to Tony. “I thought Happy was taking us home?”

Tony looked away from the movie menu that had just popped up on the massive TV and looked to Peter. “Do you want to go home?”

“No,” MJ cut in. When Peter and Tony both looked at her, she paused, then crossed her arms, shrugged, and quickly added, “Not that I care either way, but I mean--if we’re picking an answer…I wouldn’t mind watching a movie.”

Pepper handed them a blanket and reached for the remote in Tony’s hand. “Great, I’ll pick the movie.”

“No,” Tony quickly held the remote out of her reach. “It’s my turn.”

“You sure?” Pepper asked, nose wrinkling.

Tony frowned. “What’s with that face?”

“What face?”

“That face,” Tony repeated, using the remote to point towards Pepper. He looked a little hurt. “What? You don’t like my movies?”

Pepper looked hesitant to answer, but she didn’t need to because Thor leaned forward and offered, “I can pick the movie.”

“No,” everyone answered. Everyone but MJ, who looked confused.

“You’ve picked _Space Jam_ the last three times.” Tony stepped around the coffee table and narrowed his eyes at Pepper and Thor in silent judgement. “I’m picking the movie.”

While Tony and Pepper argued over whether or not anything starring Nicolas Cage could be considered “a classic”, MJ unfolded Pepper’s borrowed blanket and claimed a spot on the end of the couch. She shook it out, draped it across her lap, and drummed her fingers on her knees before looking up at Peter.

“Well?” She nodded to the empty cushion next to her and Peter finally caught on.

“Sorry,” he said, but she just gave a soft smile and tossed the edge of the blanket over his legs when he finally sat next to her. They settled in, getting comfy while Thor removed his boots and slowly placed his feet back on the coffee table.

Tony eventually chose a movie older than MJ and Peter combined, FRIDAY dimmed the lights, and everyone got comfy and tried to relax as the movie played out.

Peter wouldn’t necessarily say it was a bad movie, but it definitely didn’t hold his attention because sometime between the opening credits and the finale, Peter had fallen asleep. MJ too, judging by the steady, rhythmic breathing and slight baby snores.

Peter only noticed because he saw something flash through is eyelids. When he groaned and opened his eyes, it was to find bits of MJ’s hair draped over his face as he leaned into her side, snuggled up together beneath the blanket as Pepper stood over them, camera phone in hand.

“Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry, “May made me promise.”

Thor gave an almighty snore, Peter groaned again, gave Pepper an unimpressed, sleepy frown and went back to sleep.

When they all woke up hours later it was to discover that Pepper had posted several photos on Tony’s Instagram, photos Peter hadn’t been aware had been taken. There were pictures of Tony tossing marshmallows at Thor as he tried to knock down the little wooden block, pictures of Steve helping Peter build their makeshift net out of food, and a pretty impressive one of MJ barely missing smacking Thor in the face with a ping pong paddle as she fought to return one of Captain America’s serves.

But the best part, the part that wiped the sleepy frown from both MJ and Peter’s faces was the single reply from @spideyno1fan. “I hate you” it read with a crying face emoji.

MJ grabbed Peter’s phone, snapped a selfie of them with a still sleeping Thor in the background and replied, “We’ll get over it.”

She grinned, gave him a shy kiss on the cheek, and promptly went to the kitchen in search of something with either sugar or carbs.

Peter just grinned.

Definitely better than burned noodles and pizza pockets.


End file.
